Something in the Way

“The thing is,” Mr. Alexander stared at the pencil he twirled in his hand, not meeting Holly’s face with his eyes. “You signed up for Advanced Chemistry at the end of the last school year, knowing full well that you needed prior approval for that class.”

Sitting silently, in an effort to force the older man before her to meet her eyes, Holly finally gave in with a sigh. “I’m in Advanced English, Advanced Calculus and Advanced Social Studies this year,” she explained to her principal. “And I got an A in Advanced Biology last year. There’s no good reason that I shouldn’t be allowed in Advanced Chemistry.”

Leaning back in the uncomfortable guest chair in the principal’s cramped office, Holly tried to look as poised and confident as possible in her old worn out clothes and the unstylish bun she wore. What she had said was true, she knew that – there was no GOOD reason she wasn’t being let into Advanced Chemistry by Mr. Myers, the teacher. But there was a reason.

Gary, Holly’s older brother, had been in Mr. Myers’s Basic Science class for four years. And failed, all four years. During that time, he had spearheaded more asinine pranks on that one teacher than any other student had perpetrated on any teacher in the history of Stonestown High School. And the good majority of it, he had gotten away with. It was only when Gary dropped out of school on his 18th birthday that Mr. Myers was finally relieved of being on the receiving end of the druggie’s cruel jokes.

So it wasn’t a shock that, just two years after finally shaking Gary Blake, Mr. Myers wasn’t too keen to accept Gary’s younger sister into the most advanced science class their small high school had to offer. Only, Holly deserved her place in that class; she had earned it through hard work and impressive grades.

Looking down at the records before him, Mr. Alexander had a hard time finding an argument against Holly’s plea. She was a 4.0 student, in choir and on the debate team. She’d never been in any trouble – although she had been pulled into the principal’s office more than once over the past four years for things that had nothing to do with her.

The thing was, Stonestown was a small place. Less than 3,000 people resided in the town limits, and only 150 students made up all four grades of the high school. So it was hard, sometimes, for the townsfolk to differentiate between the serious, studious, almost pathetic Holly Blake, and the rest of her family.

Flipping through a few pages of her transcript, pausing for a moment to read the words “amazing mind… could go far… just needs to be given the right opportunity…” as written by her debate club sponsor, Mr. Alexander gave in. “You’re right,” he admitted. “You’re an excellent student, and you deserve to be in Advanced Chemistry. I’ll talk to Mr. Myers this afternoon-”

Before Mr. Alexander had even finished giving his verdict, Holly jumped to her feet. “Thank you so much, Mr. Alexander,” she pulled her books to her chest with a grin. “As my other teachers will tell you, I’m not like my brother… Mr. Myers won’t get any problems from me, I promise.”

“I know he won’t,” Mr. Alexander felt badly that this poor girl, dressed in obvious second-hand clothes, was so glad to be given an opportunity that she had already rightfully earned on her own. “Here’s a pass, now. Head on to your next class. Like I said, I’ll talk to Mr. Myers this afternoon, and you can join Advanced Chemistry beginning tomorrow.”

“Thank you again,” Holly bit her lip, trying to will the glassiness from her eyes. Straightening her worn pleated skirt, she forced herself to meet Mr. Alexander’s gaze. “I won’t disappoint you,” she told him before heading out of the principal’s office.

“I know you won’t,” Mr. Alexander said to himself, flipping through Holly’s file until he reached the section marked “family” and sighed in pity, thinking of the girl who had just left his office. “I just hope you reach a point where other people stop disappointing you.”


Adam sat in an uncomfortable chair in the waiting room, with his black hoodie pulled up as usual, watching the plain, dorky, disheveled girl closing the principal’s office door with a grin on her face. He was about to look away when realized suddenly that he recognized her.

“You’re Gary’s sister,” Adam called out.

Hating that description more than any other in the world, Holly’s expression turned steely before she even met Adam’s smirk. “And you’re just another pothead going nowhere in this town,” she said coldly.

His smirk quickly turning to a frown, Adam shook his head. “I just enjoy myself,” he said coldly to the girl before him. “Your family is the one that takes it to the next level. Wasn’t your dad just banned from Howard’s Pub? This is a small town; where’s he gonna go to get shitfaced now?”

A look of hurt struck across Holly’s face, but before she could even reply, a sharp voice from beside her caught her off guard. “Adam McKay,” Mr. Alexander’s tone was unquestionably disapproving. “My office. NOW.”

Despite the interruption, Holly and Adam locked glares for another few seconds. “Adam, NOW,” Mr. Alexander repeated. In a lower – but still authoritative voice – he focused on Holly. “Miss Blake, please head back to your next class.”

“Yes, Miss Blake,” Adam repeated mockingly. “Head back to class.”

Having glanced over at Mr. Alexander momentarily, Holly’s glare immediately returned to Adam. “Make fun of me for my brother and my father all you want,” she said with strength in her voice. “But at least I know I’m doing something with my life, unlike you.”

“And unlike your mom,” Adam said cruelly.

“ADAM! GET THE HELL INTO MY OFFICE!” Mr. Alexander demanded, but it was too late for the sting to not hit Holly like a slap across the face. Stunned into silence, she rushed out of the office, the elderly secretary calling after her.

“I hope you’re happy, Adam,” Mr. Alexander pointed the younger boy into his office. “I can’t even comprehend why you would say something so cruel to such an innocent young girl.”

Sinking silently into the uncomfortable guest seat across from Mr. Alexander’s desk, Adam felt his stomach turn. He wasn’t exactly sure why he had said such a cruel thing to Holly Blake. After all, he barely knew her.


After having rushed into the nearest girl’s bathroom after leaving the principal’s office, Holly had splashed her face with cold water and forced herself to calm down. “It doesn’t matter what that loser thinks,” she told her expression in the mirror as the smoothed her hair back into her bun. “He doesn’t know you. He didn’t know your mother. He’s just like Gary, just a loser that’s going nowhere.”

Taking a few deep, cleansing breaths, Holly was finally able to calm down. Patting her face dry with paper towels, she regained her composure and smiled at herself in the mirror. Sure, she wished she was prettier, or that she had nicer clothes, or – at the very least – that her family wasn’t the laughingstock of the town.

But Holly couldn’t control any of that. So she would continue what she’d been doing for years – she’d keep going to class, working hard, volunteering, being parts of clubs. She had a few friends – no one, of course, she’d ever bring back to the hellhole she called her home – but people to study with, people to eat lunch with, people who where often outsiders too. People that didn’t ask her to tell them more than she was willing to, and in turn, she didn’t ask any more of them.

“Only two classes left,” Holly thought to herself as she headed out of the girl’s bathroom and towards her Advanced English class. Of course, that wasn’t much of a consolation to a girl who would rather be just about anywhere but at home…


Walking through his front door, Adam threw his bookbag into the hallway. He knew his should probably start some homework, since Principal Alexander had likely called one of his parents at work, but he wasn’t in the mood. All he was in the mood for was a frozen pizza and a few hits of pot.

Preheating the oven, Adam walked up the stairs of his modest split-level ranch. Walking into his bedroom, he glanced in the mirror and grinned a bit. He looked like a badass just then, with his black hoodie pulled up, his jeans riding low, and a wallet chain draping from his hip.

In the solidarity of his own room, Adam finally flipped down the hood on his sweatshirt. He hit play on his CD player, and took a seat on his bed.

As Rob Zombie’s hard sounds filled his room, Adam reached under his lamp and pulled out a joint he had rolled the night before. Lighting it, he took a few deep drags and finally relaxed, after an exhausting day.

Laying there for a few minutes, Adam heard the oven timer go off. He took in one more deep drag, and then put the joint out in the ashtray he had hidden under his desk. Walking downstairs, he put the frozen pizza in the oven – now excited to experience its cheesy goodness – and leaned against the counter. Unfortunately, his mother walked in the front door at just that moment.

“What did you have to go and do now?” Mrs. McKay asked, looked heartbroken as she shook off her jacket and placed it on the back of a dining room chair.

Pausing for a moment, Adam said nothing. After all, he wasn’t sure what he was in trouble for. After all, he had only gotten called into the principal’s office for skipping one class – usually not an offense that warranted a parental call. However, he had (accidentally) forgotten he’d had a major quiz the day he’d skipped to go smoke pot with some kids that had dropped out or graduated (by the skin of their teeth) the prior couple years. Still, he could make up a quiz. So there was only really one reason Mr. Alexander would have called…

“Why on earth,” Evelyn McKay walked right up to Adam and took his face in her hands, forcing him to look straight into her eyes. “Why on earth would you harass that poor Blake girl?”

Normally, Adam had a smartass answer. Either it was, “I cut class because the teacher doesn’t know what s/he is talking about”, or “I wasn’t talking back; Mr/Ms Whatever was pissed off that I challenged something that wasn’t in the “Teacher’s Edition” of the book.” But this time, unfortunately, he didn’t have a good reason.

Despite his mother’s death grip on his cheeks, Adam could usually pull away if he felt any sort of righteous indignation. But this time, he could only drop his eyes. “I know,” he told his mother softly, knowing the guilt she was trying to impart was worthy. “I shouldn’t have said anything to her.”

Normally, Mrs. McKay would have released her son after such an unusual admission. She worked at the Police Dispatch Center, and often heard about situations occurring that she prayed – and was generally granted – that he son (could have been but) wasn’t involved in.

But Evelyn just couldn’t this time. Mrs. McKay had known Holly Blake’s mother years ago, well before she fell sick. Everyone had always seen Jonie McKay as an eccentric, and she had been treated as an outsider since she and her young family had arrived in town. But Mrs. McKay had always been fascinated by Jonie, who she thought was a true artist.

Evelyn had planned – always planned – to invite Jonie to take part in some of the small town’s traditions. There was the Christmas Crafts Carnival, or the Spring Spree, or Summer Spectacle, or the Fall Fair. Any one of those gatherings would have been appropriate for Jonie McKay to show her artistry to Stonestown. But Evelyn had never gotten up the nerve to ask the hippy artist that lived just blocks from her, and whose children went to school with her own son.

And one day, it was too late.

Shaking her head, as if to shake the guilt from herself, Mrs. McKay looked sadly into her son’s eyes. She wasn’t a stupid woman; hell, she worked at the police station. She could tell that Adam was high. But having a teenage son who smoked pot was not her biggest concern just now. “How could you look at that poor, pathetic girl and mock the death of her mother?”

Taking a deep breath, Adam had just been about to defend himself. After all, Holly had been the first to make a nasty comment towards him. But his final statement, when she had said something about doing something with her life and he had said “unlike your mom”… Adam knew he had crossed a line, despite how much pot he had smoked to try to alleviate the guilt.

“It was totally wrong,” Adam admitted, his eyes turned as far towards the floor as they could get while his mother was still holding his cheeks. “I know that. I don’t know why I said it; she insulted me, but I shouldn’t have said it.”

Mrs. McKay let her grip go from Adam’s cheeks, and dropped her hands to his shoulders. “I’m shocked you said that,” her voice was softer this time as she spoke, and Adam finally felt the strength to meet the kind woman’s gaze. “But I believe you wish you hadn’t… Dear God, I’m just glad I believe it.” Just then, the oven timer went off, and both people jumped.

“I’ll slice up the pizza for you,” Mrs. McKay kept Adam’s gaze steady, even though he wanted to look away. “I recommend, while I’m doing so that you get rid of… anything in your room that you wouldn’t want your father to find. I doubt the school called him, but word travels fast in this town. He’s likely to search your room when he gets home from work.”

The disappointment in his mothers voice was almost too much for Adam to bear, and combined with the fact that she was willing to hide Adam’s pot habit from his father – her high school sweetheart that, 20 years later, it was still obvious she was in love with – broke his heart.

“I’m really sorry, Mom,” Adam walked out of the room as he pulled his hoodie back up. “What I did was fu- was wrong. I know that. I’m sorry.”

“I know, baby,” Mrs. McKay gave her only child a small smile as she slid on an oven mitt and opened the stove door. “It’s the only reason I’m warning you.”


The next morning, Adam was shocked to be glad to go to school, but he was. As his mother had suspected, his father had heard about his antics the day before in the school office. Mr. McKay had gone on to do a thorough search of his son’s room; he had been fairly thorough, only not looking in the one place Adam had discovered as a good hiding spot. The air vent in his room could be unscrewed fairly easily, and just about anything could be hid inside it.

As usually, Adam was dressed in loose jeans and a band t-shirt hidden by his hoodie, that he pulled up over his head as soon as he left his house. Somehow, there was comfort to be found in the thin sweatshirt’s hood.

Glancing back and forth down the hallway, Adam had told himself he’d apologize to Holly Blake if he saw her. However, he knew that was unlikely. She was in all advanced classes, and even did some club shit – debate or something – during lunch, so they almost never ran across each other.

“Hey Adam,” Vanessa caught up with Adam as he hurried down the hallway. “Heard you gave that Blake girl what-for in the office yesterday. That’s awesome. She’s so stuck up, especially considering her brother is our number one dealer.” Vanessa smirked and tossed her dyed black hair over her shoulder.

Looking over Vanessa for a moment, Adam tried to figure out what had attracted him to make out with her for the past few months at parties and random parking lot meetings. Hell, she was pretty, and shapely. And she liked the same music and movies he did. But, right now, he couldn’t find anything attractive about her.

“I have to get to class,” Adam replied, not even meeting Vanessa’s eyes.

Vanessa stopped in her tracks, shocked by Adam’s reaction. After all, this was a tiny school. Very few girls listened to metal and punk rock, and even fewer were as attractive as Vanessa. To be blown off by Adam… who wasn’t even that cute… it infuriated Vanessa.


Holly had made it through the day without having seen Adam or having anyone say (much of) anything to her about her encounter at the principal’s office the day before. With the exception of Mr. Myers class, wherein the teacher had pointed her to an empty seat and then gone on to obviously intentionally ignore her presence, the day had gone fairly well.

After choir practice, Holly headed home in a rush. Her father had been actually working at a construction site for the past week, and she was very excited about that. It meant money was coming in… and that, perhaps, Mr. Blake would finally be able to make enough to pay rent on their trailer without help from Gary’s drug running money.

But Holly’s father would be angry – possibly irate – if dinner wasn’t on the table when he arrived home, so she was glad the town busses were running on schedule. Rushing into the house, she put her bookbag into the hall closet, pulled three chicken breasts from the freezer, and had just begun tossing a salad when a knock came at the door.

Glancing at the clock, Holly tried to calm herself down. Her father shouldn’t be home for at least half an hour; she had plenty of time. Wiping her hands on a kitchen rag, she opened the door. And her jaw tightened.

“Gary’s not here.”

“I wasn’t looking for Gary,” Adam sunk deeper into the hood of his sweatshirt, but refused to give up. “I came here to talk to you, Holly.”

“Me?” Holly looked shocked, but her eyes immediately turned to slits of distrust. “I don’t deal drugs,” she said angrily. “If that’s what you thought.”

Storming away from the open door, Holly went back to the kitchen and began mixing the dough for the rolls. To her surprise, the screen door swung open, and Adam walked into the kitchen.

“GARY’S NOT HERE,” Holly’s hands were buried in flour as she met Adam’s eyes unquivering. “And I don’t deal drugs. So there’s no reason for you to be here now, is there?”

Seeing Holly look back at the dough – that she now seemed to be punishing on the small cutting board – Adam glanced around the trailer. He’d been there several times to buy pot – he’d even hung out in Gary’s room and smoked a few times – but he’d never really paid attention to the raggedy abode. Despite it’s cheap interior, it was neat, decorated with an almost feminine touch.

“Go ahead,” Holly caught Adam glancing around the small trailer and her voice grew angry. “Make fun of where I live. You’ve already made fun of my druggy brother and my drunk father and my dead mother. Point out that my house is a shithole.

“Or better yet,” Holly pulled her hands up, tossing flour into the air as she pointed to herself. “Make fun of me. Tell me I’m ugly, or a teacher’s pet, or that, no matter how hard I try, I’ll never be any better than the rest of my family.” Her hands formed fists and, she pounded the wooden block as she stared straight into Adam’s eyes. “I promise, there’s nothing you can say that I haven’t heard before.”

“I don’t think you’re ugly,” Adam said, surprising both Holly and himself. The both stood silently for a moment. “I mean…” Adam tried to regain his composure. “I mean, that isn’t what I came over to say. I just wanted to say I’m sorry about what I said yesterday… about your mom.”

Still reeling from Adam’s statement, and from her own diatribe, Holly tried to pull herself together. “What, is this something Mr. Alexander is requiring of you? So you don’t get suspended or something?”

Quickly losing his cool, Adam leaned on the small butcher’s block in the middle of the tiny kitchen. “No,” he met Holly’s cool blue gaze with his own dark stare. “I actually came over here because I felt bad. I thought I had been mean, and insulted someone who didn’t deserve it. And as much of a dick as you think I am, no one forced me here!”

“And I didn’t ask you to come here!” Holly’s eyes quickly filled with tears, but she knew it had little to do with the boy in front of her. In fact, he had gone above-and-beyond the call of duty, coming over and apologizing. But sometimes, life felt like crap, and you can’t help but take that out on those around you. “Fine, I accept your apology. Just go, Adam! I’m sure I’ll see you next time you need to buy pot from my brother.”

“Whatever,” Adam started walking out of the trailer, looking back over his shoulder. “I’m not sorry I apologized for what I said, but I wish I had just said you’re a bitch instead. Because you are!” With that, Adam stormed out.

Tearing the dough into balls and putting them onto the greased baking pan, Holly was livid. How dare that… that… pothead come to her house, acting like she was some sort of charity case! Like he was doing her a FAVOR for apologizing?

How dare he come from his normal household – yeah, Holly knew his kind mother from volunteer work with the police station? And how dare he act like he had a clue how much what he had said had hurt her?

And how dare he say that he didn’t think she was ugly…